PART 2 — THE SECRET BENEATH THE BLANKET

Josephine Wright had imagined many things about her wedding night.

She had imagined loneliness. Fear. Perhaps even regret.

But she had never imagined standing before a man who had spent two years convincing an entire town that he could not walk, only to discover that the truth was far more dangerous than the lie.

Jeffrey Ross stood in the dim cabin, his shadow stretching across the floorboards.

Josephine pulled the bearskin тιԍнтer around her shoulders.

“Are you going to explain?” she asked.

Jeffrey glanced toward the window.

“Not tonight.”

“Then why reveal it?”

“Because you asked me whether I expected something from you.”

His answer only made her angrier.

“You bought me for thirty dollars. My uncle signed a paper as if I were a horse. And now you expect me to live here without knowing what kind of man you are?”

Jeffrey’s jaw тιԍнтened.

“I didn’t buy you.”

“Then what was that agreement?”

“A way to get you out of Arthur Wright’s reach.”

Josephine stared at him.

Her uncle had never been kind, but she had not imagined he was capable of something worse than selling her into marriage.

“What do you mean?”

Jeffrey reached for the wheelchair and sat down again. The movement was deliberate, almost theatrical, as though he were putting on a costume.

“Your uncle owes money to a man named Silas Crowe. A considerable amount. Crowe has been buying claims, farms, and anything else he can seize from people who cannot pay.”

“I know about his debts.”

“No. You know about the ones Arthur admits to.”

Jeffrey leaned forward.

“Three weeks ago, your uncle came to me with an offer. He wanted thirty dollars and a worthless silver claim. In exchange, he would give me a wife.”

Josephine’s stomach тιԍнтened.

“And you agreed?”

“I agreed to the paper. Not the arrangement.”

“Why?”

“Because Arthur told Crowe you had found something in your father’s old papers. Something that could prove the land Crowe is buying was stolen.”

Josephine went still.

Her father, Thomas Wright, had been a surveyor before his death. He had spent years mapping mountain claims, often working for miners who could not afford the larger companies.

She remembered the old leather-bound ledger he had kept beneath his bed.

After he died, Arthur took nearly everything.

But not the ledger.

Josephine had hidden it.

“You know about my father’s book?” she whispered.

Jeffrey nodded.

“I know enough to believe it could ruin Silas Crowe.”

“Where is it?”

“That’s what I need to find out.”

Josephine stepped away from him.

“You don’t know where it is?”

“No.”

“Then you married me because of a book you haven’t even seen?”

Jeffrey’s eyes hardened.

“I married you because Crowe believes Arthur has already handed it over. And because if Crowe discovers you still have it, you won’t live long enough to tell anyone what it contains.”

The cabin suddenly seemed smaller.

Josephine remembered the strange men who had visited her uncle’s house in the weeks before the wedding. Their expensive coats. Their quiet voices. The way Arthur had stopped speaking whenever she entered a room.

She had thought they were creditors.

Now she wondered whether they had been watching her.

“Who are you, Jeffrey Ross?”

He looked toward the fire.

“Two years ago, I was a deputy territorial marshal. I was investigating Crowe’s operation when a logging wagon overturned on a narrow road.”

“You were injured?”

“Not in the way people believe.”

His voice grew colder.

“Crowe’s men left me beneath that wagon. They thought I was ᴅᴇᴀᴅ. I survived, but I knew they would finish the job if they discovered I could still walk.”

Josephine swallowed.

“So you pretended to be paralyzed.”

“I let the town believe it. A helpless man attracts less attention than a man asking questions.”

“And the wheelchair?”

“Part of the performance.”

She looked at the blanket.

The entire town had pitied him.

And all that time, Jeffrey Ross had been watching.

“What happens now?”

“Tomorrow, you’ll learn how to live here. You’ll find food in the pantry, wood beside the stove, and a rifle above the door.”

Josephine stiffened.

“I don’t know how to use a rifle.”

“You won’t need to unless someone comes through that door.”

“And if someone does?”

Jeffrey’s gaze met hers.

“Then you’ll know why I married you.”

He rose once more, crossed the room, and checked the heavy wooden bar on the door.

Josephine watched him carefully.

For the first time, she noticed something unusual.

His movements were not those of a man who had spent years hiding an injury.

They were those of someone trained to expect danger.

Jeffrey returned to the window.

“Get some sleep.”

Josephine turned toward the alcove.

But she could not sleep.

She thought of her father. His ledger. The thirty dollars. The men who had frightened her uncle into selling her.

And then she remembered something else.

The ledger was not beneath her father’s bed.

She had hidden it inside the lining of her old traveling trunk.

The same trunk she had brought to the cabin.

Josephine looked toward it.

Jeffrey noticed.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.”

He studied her for a long moment.

Then he nodded.

“Good night, Mrs. Ross.”

The тιтle sounded strange coming from him.

Josephine lay down beneath the bearskin.

But she did not close her eyes.

She waited until the fire had burned low and Jeffrey’s breathing became slow and even.

Then she slipped from the bed.

The trunk stood near the wall.

Her fingers trembled as she opened it.

The ledger was still there.

But something had changed.

A small envelope had been tucked beneath the leather cover.

Josephine had never seen it before.

She opened it.

Inside was a single sheet of paper.

Her father’s handwriting.

Josephine, if you are reading this, then Arthur has betrayed us.

Her breath caught.

Below the sentence was a name.

Jeffrey Ross.

And beneath that name, a line that made her blood run cold.

Do not trust him until you know what happened at Black Hollow.

A floorboard creaked behind her.

Josephine spun around.

Jeffrey stood in the doorway.

His eyes had fallen on the paper.

For the first time that night, the powerful, controlled man looked genuinely shaken.

“Where did you get that?” he whispered.

Josephine held the letter against her chest.

“From my father’s trunk.”

Jeffrey stepped closer.

“Josephine, listen to me.”

She backed away.

“Why did my father write your name?”

Jeffrey’s expression changed.

The secret he had been hiding for two years was suddenly standing between them.

And before he could answer, a gunsH๏τ shattered the silence outside.

The cabin window exploded inward.

Jeffrey grabbed Josephine and pulled her to the floor.

“Stay down!”

Another sH๏τ struck the wooden wall.

Then came a voice from the darkness.

“Ross! We know the girl has the ledger!”

Josephine looked at Jeffrey.

His hand was already reaching for the rifle above the door.

And suddenly, she understood.

The wedding had not saved her from danger.

It had brought danger directly to their doorstep.